Thursday, February 26, 2015

About ten years ago, I gave my students a writing assignment that looked like fun; so, I wrote along side of them. I enjoyed the prompt so much that I decided I wanted to write a

novel. As of now, I've written five novels, but none are published. In all honesty, I haven't had a lot of time for novel writing or querying recently. Not having a book contract is probably for the best since teaching is so demanding. But I still dream of publication of more than just a magazine story.Just this week, I wrote another story with my kids. They are working on a Dog Unit so the assignment was to write about one of those wonderful dog expressions such as, a dog-eat-dog world, raining cats and dogs, dog eared, dog tired or the one I chose, in the doghouse. Here's my fiction story. It hasn't had much editing and I didn't spend a lot of time writing it, but I'll share it any way.

The Price of a Laugh: A Dog House Story﻿

"I'll only be gone a moment," Mom said as she scooted out the door. She'd left us may times before, but something told me today would be different. My little brother, Patrick, tugged on my sleeve. His face gave that I'm-bored-expression, even though Mom had only been gone for four minutes. One of my favorite past times was making Patrick laugh. He had one of those goofy snort giggles that seemed to bring the entire house into his party. Without giving it too much thought, I grabbed Mom's Japanese bud vase off the marble end table and balanced it on top of my head. "Snor-or-ort!" Patrick fell on the floor and rolled into my leg. Not expecting his body to crash into me, I jerked back causing the vase to crash on the floor. "Uh-oh," Patrick giggled.

A meer uh-oh was not going to solve this problem. Mom had bought that vase back in college when she studied in Japan. She had always talked about what a rare find it was and how she'd never seen one just like it. Now her treasure lay on the floor in 1,652 pieces. I reached for the broom and swept up the mess all the while thinking of the trouble I'd be in when Mom came home. I'm in the doghouse for the price of one snort laugh.

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Thursday, February 19, 2015

I am Jewish. My religious roots go back as far as I know, and I wouldn't
want it any other way. If you dislike me because of my faith, then leave my
blog. I don't need your visits. Furthermore, I fully support Israel and her
need to protect herself from terrorist attacks. I am sick of the United Nations
condemning Israel for her acts of self-preservation while having nothing to say
about the horrors of ISIS.Antisemitism is once again on the rise, with an over 300% increase in
Europe. As a result, I have no plans to visit this part of the world anytime
soon. Antisemitism first showed its ugly head in 586 BCE (Before the Common
Era) in ancient Babylonia when Jews refused to worship Khnum, the Egyptian Ram
God. Soon after, the first temple was destroyed. This occurred in what is now
Israel, long before Palestinians even existed.

Basically, hatred for Jews has followed a repeated pattern of a ruling
factor saying, "You will do this." While Jews replied, "We will not."

Some 400 years later, Egyptians frowned upon Jews who worshipped one God as
opposed to multiple Gods. Yet, we Jews refused to give up our practices.

With the antisemitism among the Roman Empire, how in the world do people
believe the lie of Jews killing Jesus? Jews had no power and were a small and
intellectually divided community. In fact, many Jews were nailed to the cross
for refusing to practice the Roman religious ways. Plus, the Romans destroyed
the second temple in 70 CE.

Throughout history, Jews have been a convenient scape goat due to our
refusal to assimilate. We did not cause the black plague; we just didn't catch
the dreaded disease because we kept our houses clean. Or, er, my ancestors did.
;) Nor, have we sacrificed humans in bizarre rituals. However, people believe
what they want to believe.

At the beginning of this article, I claimed that I wouldn't want to deny my
ancestry. Throughout history, my ancestors have repeatedly had threats to their
lives. I am proud to be the child of the survivors. I am also amazed at the
persistence of those who try to convert me. My ancestors refused conversion
over the threat of death, yet you think you can ring my doorbell and expect me
to drop my religion for yours. No apologies to you. I refuse to spit on my
ancestors graves.

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Sunday, February 8, 2015

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Thursday, February 5, 2015

You go first.Let's try that again.Knock knockWhose their?Hard.Hard who?Hard to be funny with so much on my mind.I was in the doctor's office two weeks ago, and he diagnosed me with Diabetes. It's a combination between genetics, high levels of stress, and bad eating as a result.I've had an incredibly stressful year. If all my coworkers were to throw their health problems into a box and shake, the box would explode. That is if they stuck around long enough to watch. One by one, many have quit. Those of us who have stuck it out have suffered from high blood pressure, shingles, and now let's add my Diabetes to the list.

As for the dreaded diagnosis, I've been expecting it for some time. After all, genetics loads the gun and life style pulls the trigger. My dad was diagnosed when he was around my age and under going a lawsuit from his business. In many ways, I am my dad in that I'm a worrier who wants to please. Interestingly enough, I've had a lot of dreams recently that involve Dad being with me. Although he died in 1993, I've never stopped missing him. I guess we never do.Looking at dream analysis sites, dreaming about one's father hints at a need for protection. This makes sense because Dad was always looking out for me. With me being only 31 when he died, I felt cheated; however, I've since gotten over these feelings by talking to people about their dads. I was better off with my father for 31 years than theirs for 62.Dad never hit me, but I believed he would. He told me to do that with my kids.

Unfortunately, although we never even spanked our children, we could not pull off the believed fear that we would. As for me, I've only successfully beaten the crap out of fictional characters. Does that mean the violence is in me? I could claim that to scare my kids, but it's too late. They are adults, and I'd have a hard time convincing them that they'll be going over my knee for their insolence. By the way, my kids' favorite thing to do is to tell "You're mama" jokes in front of me, but I'm being ADD, again.

The good thing about my dreams of Dad is that at night he shows up walking. Dad lost both of his legs to Diabetes. Mom, on the other hand, never had severe problems with her Diabetes. I hope to keep the disease under control. I've lost five pounds in the last few weeks and plan to lose more. Plus, I will be eligible to retire in a couple of years. Pray that I can hang in there long enough to receive full benefits for thirty years on the job. It's hard to believe just how close I am.As a side note, you may look forward to reading about how I abuse my characters after I retire and have time to focus on getting published.

Sunday, February 1, 2015

When I think of duets, I think of these mushy love songs, which isn't my style, so I had to look for something fun.

Here's a song from Annie Get Your Gun:

"Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better."

Next up, is one I've posted before, but hey, it's a fave. It makes me laugh every time I see it. Once again, without further ado, is King Louis and Baloo the Bear from the Jungle Book: "Swingdance."

Last up, is a fun duet from Paul McCarney and Michael Jackson: "Say, Say, Say."

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